


A Duty Of Care

by QueenElizabeth



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Caregiver Stress, Comfort, Comfort Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escapism, F/M, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenElizabeth/pseuds/QueenElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For a friend with a lot on her plate. You deserve a break.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Duty Of Care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cajunlizard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajunlizard/gifts).



> For a friend with a lot on her plate. You deserve a break.

That’s better. God, finally. Finally.

_Sigh._

Your head sank down into the pillow as the bedding enveloped you like a suffocating fog.

Silence.

That pillow sucked, but damnit: the silence.

The silence, finally. You wait all day for this. All the never-ending, rollercoaster, emotional yo-yo of an incessant day. You’ve earned the right to take care of your own needs at this hour. You’ve earned the right to sit down, and take a breath. You have _earned_ the silence.

They are all asleep. Everyone has had their medication, everyone is safe and happy and has everything they need.

It’s finally time for you.

You closed your eyes, and immediately opened them wide.

EERrwWwoooooSHHHhEERrwWwoooooSHHHhEERrwWwoooooSHHHh… You sat up with a jolt, and ran to your window to find the source of the wheezing, groaning sound which penetrated the perfect silence. _Your_ silence.

_If that wakes anyone up, so help me…_

“D—Doctor? No…” you rubbed your eyes and attempted to make sense of the fact that the TARDIS was outside your room. Surely you were dreaming.

You blinked several times to clear your eyes… and mind, as it were, before looking back down to find the Doctor himself, standing just outside the TARDIS door, waving happily at you, motioning for you to come down and join him.

You threw on your hoodie and slipped on some shoes, and silently crept outside. A fat orange cat from the neighborhood stood on the sidewalk gaping at the scene. The Doctor waved to him too. What was he so excited about?

“Doctor?” you called.

“Come on, come on, c’mon… get in, get in,” he sputtered, ushering you into the TARDIS.

“What is going on? Is this… why? Am I asleep?” you wondered aloud.

The Doctor leaned back against the console, with its myriad buttons and levers and lights, casually, proudly. He flipped the end of his black coat backward to reveal a hint of rich crimson lining as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and he smiled.

“I have been trying to find just the right time for this for ages!” he announced. “I’m here now, and I’m taking you out for your break.”

“My break?” you repeated, instantly considering the possibility that it may in fact be psychotic in nature.

“You deserve a break, darling,” the Doctor said, leaning forward while softening his demeanor. “You never get time for yourself, and today I’m going to fix that,” he explained.

You struggled to find any words with which to respond, and simply stared back at him: your hero, your imaginary friend. How did he know any of this?

He raised a single lithe finger in the air, excusing himself for a beat. When he returned, he produced a very innocuous-looking piece of diagnostic equipment. It looked like a temporal thermometer from Earth, but its smooth, vaguely glowing metal finish suggested far more alien origins.

“Let me just scan you,” he said, and began to press the probe into your temple.

You flinched, expecting pain perhaps, and certainly not knowing what exactly to expect.

“It’s quick and sensationless… it’s fine,” he soothed, and continued to move the gadget up and across your forehead, and down to look into your pupils. He looked so much younger than you expected, and his very aura was so warm and soothing. Calming. His wild grey curls and animated blue eyes lent him a handsome, human air, like a mad professor, but when he locked into your gaze, you could easily sense that he was most definitely not of this world.

“One month should do it. Give or take a week,” he announced, perusing the readout from the back of the scanner. “You’re severely deprived of sleep and several essential vitamins and amino acid chains. You’re mildly dehydrated and addicted to sucrose, caffeine, and something called BBC America. I believe I can address at least most of these ailments in that time.”

“A month?” you asked, suddenly feeling ill at ease. You continued, “I can’t do anything for a month, Doctor, I am sorry. I have family who need me. I take care of people. They rely on me to do things they aren’t able to do for themselves, and I-“

He interrupted you with a hand upon your shoulder, “It… won’t be a month for them. I’ll return you back to your house approximately five minutes before I picked you up. No one will ever notice you’ve gone anywhere at all. I’m sorry that wasn’t clear. I forget sometimes when I bring someone ‘round for their first trip.”

“Oh…” you replied, taking the information in. It actually made a lot of sense. You were on the TARDIS. Of course, you could go home before you ever had left in the first place. “Okay,” you agreed, searching for the Doctor’s eyes once more.

He was hard at work punching things into a pull-down interface on the console. Programming coordinates, asking for accommodations, ordering tea…

“Good. It’s settled, then,” he said, “we will hang out here in this galaxy,” he explained, pointing to a digital map of a star system you had never seen before, “nothing much ever happens out here. We can park.”

Just as the TARDIS stopped spinning and twisting her great copper rings above your head, everything fell silent. Your silence, as in your room. It was broken harshly by the whistle of a 1960’s era British kettle behind you.

“First, tea,” the Doctor said with a smile.

And so it was. You sat down in a soft cognac leather chair with a tall, supportive back, and you had tea with the Doctor. One sugar, and a splash of milk, as you requested. The TARDIS made excellent tea. You took a comforting sip while you watched your host pile cube after cube of sugar into his cup.

“Are you sure you aren’t addicted to sucrose as well?” you asked, teasingly.

He made a humorous face of sarcastic disapproval before explaining, “I’m not human, remember. I don’t get addicted to silly organic compounds. I also don’t require sleep the same way you do, but you seem to not remember that you do, so, I’m not sure my words will be of much help.”

You smiled and held tightly to your teacup, wrapping your fingers around the warm porcelain. The gentle heat brought a comfort to your soul, even apart from the beverage itself. When was the last time you had tea with a friend anyway?

“After this, I have set up a room in which you can recuperate,” he explained. As he finished his declaration, the lights softly blinked and the TARDIS made a low noise. A minor chord of light disapproval. “Sorry,” he corrected himself, “ _she_ made you a room. I’ll show you in a bit.”

You had so many questions to ask him. This was really him. It was unbelievable, but there he sat.

“How old are you now?” you inquired.

“2,171,” he said, “though I must admit I feel like I’m in stoppage time. This regeneration was a bit of a… bonus.”

“How many people have you saved?” you asked, sipping your tea and gazing at him with awe.

“Countless. I never have cared to do that calculation. If I did, I would be compelled to add up how many I have failed to save…” he said, voice trailing off into his teacup for a solemn sip.

“What is your favorite planet?” you asked.

The Doctor smiled kindly, and replied, “Earth, I’m afraid. I never quite can stay away.”

After a good hour of quiet conversation, he gave you a knowing look and stood up, offering you his hand. You placed your cup and saucer on the table next to your chair, and stood, allowing him to walk you, hand-in-hand, to your vacation bedroom, as it turned out.

“What about you?” he asked, “what are your greatest adventures?”

You said, “If I told you my whole life story, Doctor, you probably wouldn’t believe it.”

He smirked amusedly and winked at you. “I don’t know… I’ve heard some things in my day,” he said.

You arrived at a door which you swore hadn’t been there earlier.

“Have a shower if you’d like. The suite has a nice big bath and shower, and plenty of fluffy towels and flowery smelling things your species enjoys, and we’ve plenty of hot clean water. Promise me you will sleep. I’ll be out here doing my thing, so don’t worry about me. I won’t wake you,” he said, awaiting your response.

“Okay…” you agreed, eyes wide at the sight of the absolutely perfect room in front of you. “I can do that,” you said.

The Doctor nodded and squeezed your hand before letting it go. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, which surprised and delighted you, and before you were fully through the door, he had returned to the TARDIS library to finish the pot of tea.

It turned out to truly be the perfect room. The temperature was perfect. The shower was heavenly. Everything smelled soothing and beautiful, and true to his word, the Doctor never once came to bother you.

You wrapped yourself in the luxury of the fluffy, solid white, cloudlike bed, and you slept. You slept for 14 straight hours that first evening.

When you awoke, you threw on some clothes which the TARDIS had laid out for you, and walked out into the console room. The Doctor put down the guitar he had been noodling on, and scanned you again and smiled at your progress.

You two shared meals the TARDIS made you, which were aimed at correcting whatever the scanner declared you had most needed. He taught you to play a little Beethoven on his Stratocaster. You sat in the library and had tea, and the Doctor regaled you with stories that made you laugh so hard your sides ached. “And that is how I met Albert Einstein,” he would close. “So _that_ is why the Mona Lisa smirks the way she does,” he would explain.

You carried on in this same manner, filling up your body and your spirit with everything you lacked the proper time for at home, for five weeks. You let down your guard, and you let the Doctor take care of you the way you always took care of everyone else.

The last night, before you retreated to your bespoke bed, he scanned you and found that you were optimal. 100% on all systems, and you truly had never felt better in your life. He was so thrilled that he smiled like a child on Christmas morning… until his eyes met yours, until he saw the sadness on your face. He dropped the scanner and immediately wrapped you in his long arms, in the tightest and most secure of hugs.

“This isn’t over…” he whispered, “I’m not done now.”

“I want to go home, but I don’t want to go home…” you said, tears beginning to stream freely down your cheek.

“I’m always watching out for you,” the Doctor said, cradling the back of your head in his strong hand. “How do you think I knew to come get you?”

You hadn’t properly pondered that question since the first night he appeared. You blinked back heavy, round tears which rolled like summer rain, and he wiped them away.

“Every time you close your eyes and you imagine that I am there with you, giving you silent courage and resolve; every time you imagine that I am wrapping you up in my embrace, it is because that is exactly what it is that I am doing. I’ve psychically linked to you… I’m always there,” he explained.

You accepted what you had always known deep down in your heart to be true, and you let your head rest against his chest, and listened to his hearts beat.

He continued, “What you're doing is serving others, even when it isn't the easiest choice, or even the best thing for you. That is what I do, too. I'm not even from your planet, and you humans are forever getting into messy scrapes. But I'm the Doctor. I save people. You do the same… You've a duty of care. No one thanks us. No one asks us how we are doing, and that is okay. It’s how it is, isn’t it? I’ve grown used to it over thousands of years, but I wanted to make sure that you knew you were not alone. I am always there. Always watching. I care for you.”

You nodded silently, and he held you for the longest time. Your last night in the TARDIS, he stayed in your room with you, reading in bed until you fell asleep, and running his hand up and down your back.

The next time you awoke, you were back in your own bed at home. In your own room. You had the tiniest impulse to feel sad, for a single fleeting moment, until you remembered everything the Doctor had told you, everything he had made sure you knew before he brought you home, and you touched your hand to your heart, and you smiled. He felt it through your link, and he smiled in the TARDIS above.

It was simply the next morning, and no one in your family had any idea why you had so much more energy than usual. The fat orange cat who looked up at you when you peered out the kitchen window suspected, but he never said a word.


End file.
